


Alone

by starbender



Series: Metamorphosis [2]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M, State of Flux
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-08-27 13:02:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8402698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starbender/pseuds/starbender
Summary: B'Ellanna is abandoned and betrayed again. Added moments to State of Flux





	

“Lieutenant Torres, did you at any time have any suspicions concerning Seska’s true identity?”

“Tuvok, she fooled Chakotay, you, the captain, all of us,” B'Elanna said. She didn’t know why Tuvok had picked these empty quarters on a mostly uninhabited deck for his interrogations. She pulled at the collar of her uniform. It was getting warm in here.

“Did she ever, in confidence, make any kind of threats against _Voyager_ or any of the senior staff?” At this moment, she hated his species and their dispassionate ways. There he stood, asking questions as if the reveal of Seska being Cardassian was nothing out of the ordinary. If his Vulcan senses hadn't picked up on anything during his brief time serving beside Seska in the Maquis and then on  _Voyager ,_ then how the hell did he expect B’Elanna to have noticed anything? She was starting to feel stiff from sitting for too long. The security officer did not feel the pressure of time constraints. He could stand there and ask her inane questions for hours. She needed to get out of here. Leaning forward in the chair, she did  her best to focus. 

“At first, she hoped the Maquis would mutiny and take over Voyager,” she said carefully choosing her words. She didn’t want anyone else to get in trouble. “But it didn’t last long. Chakotay made it clear early on that we needed to work with the Starfleet crew. As far as threats, she never liked Janeway and she really hated Paris.”

“Her antipathy toward the captain and Lieutenant Paris was no secret,” Tuvok said. B'Elanna wished Tuvok would change position or pace around the room. Cough. Do something else instead of just standing there staring down at her.

“She never got over the captain stranding us here, and as far as Paris was concerned, he was a liar, a mercenary, without honor and most of all,  because he was a traitor to the cause. She was convinced he was a Federation spy when he joined the Maquis."

That earned a raised eyebrow. “How-ironic,” Tuvok said. If B’Elanna didn’t know any better she would have thought this was his way of trying to be funny. _Seska calling Paris a traitor. I almost believed her._  

“The worse thing she ever suggested," she continued. "apart from the mutiny, was giving  replicator technology to the Kazon so they would leave us alone. That should have been a tip-off. Cardassians don’t have a Prime Directive. I didn’t say anything because we were Maquis, used to breaking the rules."

“This is true, but I highly doubt that even the Maquis would give technology to an underdeveloped species such as the Kazon.” 

B’Elanna’s mood at the start of this interview had been foul and now it turned to flaming. “For the last time I didn’t suspect anything and I didn’t see her do anything suspicious!” B’Elanna snapped. It was definitely hot in here.

“There is no reason to lose your temper, Lieutenant Torres. You have not been accused of anything. We are merely trying to ascertain how Seska was able to stay in contact with the Kazon.”

“Well, I don’t know! And why are you keeping me in here for so long? You didn't do this with anyone else!”

“As it was, apart from Chakotay you were the one person she was closest to. It is only logical that your memories be scrutinized more carefully.”

_A not so subtle reminder about how I was so easily taken in by her?_

“Scrutinized more carefully? Why don’t you just do a mind meld?” She asked.  

“I do not wish to offend but I would prefer to not-”

"Mind meld with a Klingon. I don’t blame you. I’ve told you everything. Now can I go?”

“I see no reason to keep you any longer. If you think of anything that might help us-”

“I’ll let you know.” Getting up to leave she wanted to pound the door open. The few seconds before she heard the gentle hiss as it opened was an eternity. She should go back to engineering but wasn’t up to facing them. She could see them now, the suspicion in her eyes. As if they had any room to question anything. They worked with Seska every day, the same as B’Elanna. Some of them had even served in the Maquis with her.

_I never trusted Paris. Convenient that he ran into that Federation ship after he left us. I wonder what he told him._

It had been one hell of a day. While in engineering, she had seen the transporter in use. She heard the exchange between the captain and Paris and then all the senior staff were called to the briefing room.  Tuvok informed them that he would be conducting an investigation. The Captain was angry, Chakotay looked like he had been caught unprepared by a sudden storm. Harry was openly shocked. Paris had merely crossed his arms and stared past all of them, finding something on the far wall very interesting. B’Elanna had gone weak. She actually had to sit down. Everyone else was looking at Chakotay, gauging his reaction. Almost everyone. Paris had turned toward her and was on the verge of saying something when she jumped back to her feet. He and Janeway exchanged a glance.

 _Janeway’s pet. After everything he’s done she gives HIM the Conn? I’m telling you B’Elanna, I think there’s something going on there._ _That's how he works._

She couldn’t go back to her quarters. Too many memories of late night bull sessions with Seska. They had been friends before, but they hadn't become close friends until finding themselves working in Voyager's engine department together. Then it started. Getting together for lunch, drinking wine during their off hours, sharing life stories, or B’Elanna thought they were sharing, but looking back B'Elanna realized Seska said little about herself. Some vague references to a refugee camp but always implying it was too terrible to talk about. She asked mostly about what went on in the staff meetings, about what the captain was thinking or planned to do about this or that. Like a fool B’Elanna told her almost everything, thinking it was just part of their general gossip sessions. Then they would bond and laugh about how terrible  Paris was.

 _Paris._  He was right. The talk about the Sikarians died down and now she was still the one everyone talked about because of her her friendship with Seska, the Cardassian spy. B’Elanna could imagine their thoughts. _Surely she must have noticed something!_ Rage built up inside her. Rage at Seska, rage at herself. She would return to engineering eventually, but she had to do something first. It was something no one on the ship would possibly understand, and she would get called out for it, but none of that mattered.

She stopped at the holodeck. Sandrine’s was running. Perfect. It was empty. She didn’t want to run anybody out and she didn’t feel like putting up with the over-effusive Sandrine, the chauvinistic Gary, and certainly not that parasite Rikki.

She took a seat. Seska had never come here. B’Elanna had asked but it was Paris’ program and Seska wanted nothing to do with him.

  
_You’re right B’Elanna. He is a pig!_  

A random memory surfaced. Once, in engineering, a panel to one of the Jeffries tubes would not budge, even though everyone had a go at it, only for it to fall off after Dalby ‘mind-melded' with it. Everyone but Vorik burst into laughter at the unexpected outcome. B’Elanna remembered Seska wiping her eyes while laughing- B’Elanna shut her own eyes. Tears welled up under the lids, tears of anger but also tears of loss. B’Elanna didn’t make friends easily. It had happened again. She put herself out there, and all she got for her troubles was to come away betrayed and abandoned.

Getting up B'Elanna started to pace back and forth but on impulse picked up the first chair she came to and smashed it hard against the floor. It broke into several pieces. She hadn’t meant to do that but it felt good. Another chair and then some bottles, the liquid spilling out creating little rivers on the floor. A few plates went sailing against the far wall and then some glasses. She enjoyed the sound of breaking crystal. 

_Why me? Out of all the Maquis on this ship, why did she single out me? Was it because I was so stupid, so naïve, so desperate?_

“What the hell?” A voice came from just inside the door.

_Why didn’t I put the privacy locks on this damn thing?_

She turned, holding a chair in mid-air to see Paris standing in the doorway, taking in all the evidence of her path of destruction.

“Get out!” She yelled, throwing it in his direction. Luckily it fell short, coming to rest on the floor just in front of him.

“You're telling me to get out of my own program?” He asked. “This is the last place I thought needed safety protocols!" 

“For your own good I’m telling you to leave!” She picked up another chair.

"This is about Seska.” His voice became flat, almost as toneless as Tuvok’s. He remained by the door,  the wisest thing he could have done. 

“What the hell else would it be about?” This time B'Elanna aimed the chair at an opposite wall. “I bet you’re happy. You’re glad she’s gone.” The wood broke against the wall, the legs going one way, the arms another.

“My life might be a lot easier now, but- I’m sorry.”

Pulling two beer mugs down from the upper counter she turned to face him.  His unexpected words of condolence startled her. "Sorry for what?”

“I know you considered her a friend. That’s a hard thing to lose, no matter what the circumstances,” he said. “If that  happened to me, I'd be doing the exact same thing.” Reaching down he picked up a piece of the chair she had just smashed. He shook his head at it. “Well, maybe not the _exact_ same thing, but I'd still be as mad as hell."

She stopped in mid-throw to consider his words. He was trying to be understanding, but she was too far gone. “Don’t waste your platitudes on me!” She threw one of the mugs into the mess of debris that she had created in the middle of the room. It gave a satisfying loud crack as the handle broke off.

“You’re probably wondering why, out of all the people on Voyager, you were the one she singled out-” Paris began.

“Because I was the stupid one, who couldn’t see what she really was? Because I was weak…” B'Elanna interrupted him. She let go of the other mug, watching as it broke into pieces on the floor. Tiny shards of glass danced around for a moment before becoming part of the pile.

"I actually have an idea about that, if you can stop throwing things for a minute. That is if you care to hear it," he said. Her behavior didn't seem to be having much of an effect on him.

She hesitated for a minute, part of her unwilling to trust him and the other part in desperate need of answers. "Go on," she said.

"If I were to guess, she probably picked you because you were on the senior staff,” he said. "She needed someone on the ‘inside' who wasn't Chakotay and you were the person most accessible to her. Think about it. Harry is too naive, too Starfleet. Tuvok? Hah. Me? I don't know but I got the sense that she felt she had to keep her distance from me. Not because I'm smarter than anyone else, but because I see things. I notice things other people don't. Call it a gift, call it a curse. I'm always meddling in people's lives, asking too many questions. That left you. It had nothing to do with your intelligence or anything else, Torres. You were a gateway.”

B’Elanna started in on the cutlery, but Paris' words made her stop in mid throw. Bringing her arms back down to her side she turned to stare at him.“But all the rest of it’s true. My weakness...” _My need for acceptance._

“That’s not what she exploited, Torres. If anything, she exploited your strength.”

“What the hell? What strength?” Knives and forks made a clattering sound as she dropped them down on the bar.

“That’s how they work, B’Elanna.” Now that she had no weapons he moved closer to her, picking his way through the trail of broken furniture and plates.

"Are you trying to explain Cardassians to me? I fought them. I know what they’re like!” Her hand went back down to pick up a spoon. She gripped the handle to the point where she thought she might bend it.

"You saw them in battle,” Paris said. “You saw soldiers. I know how they work when they’re not fighting. Growing up in Starfleet you learn things. My father…”

B’Elanna cut him off. “I know about your father. And the captain, and their experiences with the Cardassians.”

Paris took another few steps toward her, this time being careful to avoid the wet spots. Some of the wine must have been real because now a sour fruity smell was permeating the air.

“I know you like to dismiss your Klingon half, but it's still a part of who you are. I think Seska was trying to appeal to your innate sense of honor. That might be another reason why she targeted me. To convince you that I had none whatsoever. It was something to bond over. It's a common tactic. That find something that matters to their unwitting contact and they exploit it. Deep down, that probably does matter to you, even if you never acknowledge it, and when you think about it, she could have gone after you for worse reasons."

  
B’Elanna’s anger started to dissipate.  She hated to admit it but his words made a certain kind of sense, but they left her more confused. She didn't know whether to find his idea comforting or more disturbing. _Honor...and my need for friendship.  None of this started until we were stranded here, on Voyager._ She placed the spoon back down on the counter.

"Did you suspect anything?" She asked, turning the conversation away from herself.

‘No, not at the time, but it adds up, at least to me,' he replied.

“So she really didn’t hate you? That was just a cover?” she asked. 

“I have no idea how she really felt about me, but I could see her pretending to, just to achieve her objective.”

“She lied about everything. About caring about our cause, about our friendship, about...”  _Y_ _ou_. More anger leeched out of her. "Did it bother you, what we were doing?."

Paris shrugged his shoulders. “I'm used to people talking about me. If nothing else, it was keeping you entertained.” B’Elanna had nothing to say to that. “Look, if you think you’re stupid, then we’re all stupid. The captain, Chakotay, Tuvok, all of the Maquis. You’re not," he said, apparently not noticing the change in her demeanor. He took a good look around the room. “And you’re certainly not weak. Computer, end program.” 

The pile of debris disappeared except for a few bottles and some of the spilled liquid. She was right. Some of it had been real.

"Computer, activate waste protocols," he said. A tiny transporter wave shot through the arrays of the holodeck, searching at first, then settling on the remaining glass and liquid. "Extract waste."  The remaining traces of B'Elanna's tirade evaporated to be recycled.

"I'm sorry about the wine," she said, meaning it.

"That's ok. We can always make more." Paris' eyes went wide and he took a step back, wincing. He obviously hadn't meant to say that.

B'Elanna connected the dots immediately. "Do you mean to tell me you've been using the ship's energy and resources to make...did Neelix approve this?"

"Not exactly. You aren't going to tell anyone are you?" He gave a slight grimace as if in pain, reminding her of a  little kid caught stealing candy.

She sighed. "I'll tell you what. I'll let it go, this time, if you promise not to tell anyone about...this."

"You have my word." His relief was so obvious and amusing to the point where she almost smiled. "Any time you come into the mess hall and have no one to talk too, feel free to join me and Harry,' he continued."And don’t let all the gossip get to you. By this time next week-"

“They’ll have something new to talk about.” B’Elanna finished for him. “I don’t think I’ll be joining them.” _So that’s it. He doesn’t need or expect an apology._   Something inside of her started to turn.

“Are you going to be ok? I mean, the person you thought was your friend turned out to be your sworn enemy,” Paris asked. She turned away from him. He sounded sincere but then, so did her father at times. So did her mother--and so did Seska. 

 _The person who was my sworn enemy has turned out to be…what? My friend?_ No, she couldn’t go there. Everything was still too fresh. She had been hurt too many times. Never again.

“I’m sure I’ll manage,” B'Elanna said, walking past him out the door without so much as a glance in his direction. “I always do.”


End file.
